


Ren Abandoned on Tatooine

by how_do_i_turn_this_thing_off



Category: Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: One Shot, Requests, Tumblr, asks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 20:49:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20972846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/how_do_i_turn_this_thing_off/pseuds/how_do_i_turn_this_thing_off
Summary: From this Anon request on tumblr:I was wondering if you could write a thing where the FO finds out that Kylo Ren is a traitor, and they banish him to Tatooine where he finds out about his family history there. Thanks, love your blog!





	Ren Abandoned on Tatooine

Mutiny. Ren studied the word in his mind, rolling it over, examining it as though he’d never thought it before. An old, antiquated concept, yet here he was, the victim of quite possibly the greatest mutiny ever seen in the universe.

“Such a shame you couldn’t have proved as loyal to Snoke as he was to you,” Hux sighed, the triumphant sneer he was not trying hard to hide growing more pronounced as he marched Ren down the hallway, bound, as many stormtroopers as would fit around them also marching before and ahead, blasters out and ready. “The number of times I told him you weren’t to be trusted– just a wild dog he wouldn’t be able to fit to a leash. He insisted, and here we are. Our Supreme Leader, murdered, and his assassin taking up residence in his place.” They entered a lift and Hux turned towards Ren, offensively close, so that he could feel the General’s breath on his face. “You were never anything more than a charlatan,” Hux said, his voice low and poisonous, the look in his eyes cold, reptilian.

“You’ve been waiting your chance all this time, General,” Ren observed. “And now here you have it at last.”

“I’ve outwitted you,” Hux snapped, turning away. “But there’s no need for you to admit it, I suppose it’s not even that great of an achievement. You’ve been outwitted and outmaneuvered by nearly every enemy you’ve faced for the last two years. There’s no real finesse required.”

“Yet it took you so long.”

“Timing, Ben Solo. Something you clearly never learned.” They reached one of the lower decks and he was led out, the eight Praetorians keeping close on Ren’s heels. He couldn’t help but study the rounded, armored backpacks that had been added to their usual kit this morning, something he hadn’t thought to question until it was too late. “I must say, you’re taking this rather better than I’d imagined you would,” Hux taunted, stopping by an open escape pod, its indicator light turned green, ready for departure. “I thought there’d be some childish exhibition of pique, some attempt to fight or to run. I had even hoped I might get to use my blaster on you. But instead you proved that I was right all along: there’s nothing special about those who use the Force. Take that away and you quickly find out that’s all. They. Are.” He spat the last words in Ben’s face, almost shaking with some combination of long frustration and that same childish pique he’d accused Ben of.

“I’m a little disappointed, General,” Ben replied, keeping his voice as emotionless as his expression. It pissed Hux off, and at the moment he was very much in the mood for anything that pissed Hux off. “Even now you can’t kill me.”

“Hah,” Hux scoffed, gesturing to the Praetorians to load him into the pod. It was unnecessary- Ren did it on his own- but one Praetorian did get in with him, keeping Ren safely within the range of his backpack. “I don’t need to kill you. I’m going to take the throne from you legitimately, simply by saying you abandoned us for your precious Rebellion and it’s scavenger slave at long last, just as you’ve always intended to. Either you disappear forever and leave the First Order under the command of more capable leadership, or you try uselessly to fight and you make yourself into the Rebel I say you are.” He grinned in Ren’s face, clasping his hands behind his back. “Enjoy your retirement, Supreme Leader. I suggest you don’t come back. Then again, I would take great pleasure in getting to kill you myself.”

“Give my regards to Snoke,” Ren said, looking him right in the eye. “You’ll be joining him soon.”

For the briefest of moments Hux’s rage broke through, that base, repressed cruelty Ren had always sensed in him shining across his face, then he turned away, snapping back into his usual sneer. “Get this scum out of my sight,” he ordered. The door of the pod slid closed, there was a brief jerk, and they were away.

Ren leaned back in his seat, ignoring the Praetorian across from him as they sailed into empty space, closing his eyes. He should feel rage too, or at least something, but after the initial moment of betrayal had passed he had been surprised to find he couldn’t summon the energy for it. If anything he felt cool, calm relief, and a strange purposefulness he hadn’t experienced since his earliest days with Snoke. It finally felt like he was going somewhere instead of just going, even if he didn’t know where or what his eventual destination would be.

“Ysalamiri lizards?” he asked after a long silence in which his companion neither moved nor spoke, lifting his head and slanting a look in his direction. “Hux has been doing his homework.”

“A ten meter influence,” the Praetorian said, voice distorted into a mechanic nothingness by the filters in his helmet, his hands tightly gripping the long staff of his bisento, the broad blade at the end sharp and deadly even without igniting the plasma edge.

“Yes, he was very prepared,” Ren muttered, looking away. The only creature in all the galaxies that could nullify Force use in its immediate area. He’d never even seen one before but that didn’t excuse his extreme preoccupation when he’d returned from his last trip. He should have noticed the strange hole, the empty spot in his senses where his guards were waiting for him. At the very least he should have been keeping an eye on his guards anyway since he’d known from the start Hux had deliberately hand-picked men who would be loyal to him, spies instead of soldiers. But that was a mistake that was made, and it didn’t matter now. “What’s our heading?” he asked.

“Tatooine.”

“Tatooine?” Ren repeated, nonplussed. “Any specific reason?”

“It was the General’s choice,” the Praetorian said unhelpfully.

But why? Ren mulled it over and could come up with nothing. Had Hux thought it would cause him any special ire to be marooned on Luke’s home planet? What a useless idea. “So, you leave me there, take the escape pod back with you, and I find my own way in the desert,” he summed up.

“Those are his orders. And this,” the Praetorian said, letting go of his bisento with one hand to produce Ren’s lightsaber hilt, holding it out to him. “He was very specific that I give you this.”

“Of course he was,” Ren muttered, taking it. Relief swelled in him the moment the familiar handle hit his palm, even though Hux clearly just wanted him to use his signature weapon in battle in the future to unmistakably identify him to any members of the First Order who might waver. Either way, it was good to have it on his belt again.

“He also ordered that you change into civilian clothing,” the Praetorian added, gesturing to a compartment on Ren’s right.

“Fine.”

“The rest of the pod has been stripped. No water, no rations, no emergency beacons or survival gear of any kind.”

“Fine,” Ren repeated.

“You will not survive,” the Praetorian added, as though Ren might have missed the implications of those decisions.

“I will the moment I’m out of range of that thing,” Ren said with a pointed look at his backpack.

“The Force will not feed you.”

“Your concern is unnecessary,” Ren said, standing to change. The new clothes he’d been provided were sand-colored and a little worn but they fit well enough and certainly wouldn’t be out of place on Tatooine. He kept only his belt, carefully hiding it and the hilt of his lightsaber under his outer wrap. The Praetorian must have noticed, but didn’t comment.

They landed within the hour, burning through the atmosphere and coming to rest in the midst of featureless sand dunes. Ren stood almost the moment the pod settled, impatient to shake the Ysalamir’s influence and stretch his mind again. The Praetorian stood as well, and when the door opened and Ren left the Praetorian followed him, stepping out onto the sand, his helmeted head moving back and forth as he surveyed the landscape. “Something else?” Ren asked, watching him.

“You will please wait.”

“Why?” Instead of answering the Praetorian shed his backpack, laying it on the sand and opening it. Inside a brownish, furry lizard was attached to a glowing nutrient frame, eyes closed, the eye in the center of the nothingness pressing on Ren’s mind. The Praetorian stepped back, ignited the blade of his bisento, and swept it down in one clean, decisive arc. The Ysalamir’s head was separated from it’s body, falling out onto the sand, the nutrient frame stuttering and going out; at the same time Ren’s connection to the Force rushed back in and he actually had to take a step back, finding his footing again after only a moment, readjusting to the weight of it in his mind.

The Praetorian ignored him, removing the rest of the lizard’s body and the frame, tossing both into the open pod. Underneath a small bundle had been wedged, and when he removed it and shook it out Ren saw they were clothes very like his. “You will please wait,” the Praetorian said again, looking at Ren.

“What are you doing?” he asked, utterly lost. The Praetorian only stared. “Fine. I’ll wait,” he agreed. This seemed to satisfy and the Praetorian took the clothes, re-entered the pod, and closed the door behind him. Ren watched, a growing suspicion in the back of his mind. Of course Hux would not simply maroon him unattended, of course he would send along an assassin to stay in the background, just in case Ren strayed from his predetermined role. By the time the Praetorian exited the pod Ren had spotted Hux’s game and determined he would not pretend surprise by it. Unfortunately the decision was taken out of his hands, for the moment the pod door opened and he saw beyond it he felt his eyes widen completely of their own accord.

“You will lead,” the Praetorian said. “I will follow.” The armor had disappeared, the helmet, the voice filters, and with it the pretense, for Ren saw clearly now that the Praetorian who had been sent to accompany him was a woman. A very muscular woman, nearly as tall and as broad as Ren himself, with dark hair braided back against brown skin and red tattoos under each eye.

And he’d changed in the pod. Right in front of her. He shifted on his feet, looking away and only just catching the movement out of the corner of his eye as she tossed something into the pod and shut the door. A concussive sound and smoke proved it had been a grenade. She turned to him, raising her eyebrows. “We go where?” she asked.

“No ‘we’,” Ren said, shaking his head, ridding himself of his sudden and unnecessary discomfort. “The last thing I need is one of Hux’s spies breathing down my neck.”

“Not spy,” she said, swinging her bisento over her shoulder, the one piece of her uniform she’d kept. It looked very out of place with the worn desert gear. “Not orders. I follow you.”

“Yes, I’m sure you do,” he said sarcastically, turning away. The sound of the bisento igniting was his only warning, but he managed to get his lightsaber into his hand, ignite it as well, and turn into her over-handed strike just quickly enough to catch it on his blade. She disengaged immediately, whirling away, the red bolt of electro-plasma buzzing like an angry insect.

“Not spy,” she repeated.

“You’re not following me!” he said, blocking a strike from the left, a second, mirroring swing from the right. “Stop it!” he snapped, pushing out with the Force, throwing her on her back. She landed with a grunt of surprise but instantly regained her feet, leveling her blade at him.

“Not spy! I follow you.”

“You’re defecting?” he asked sarcastically. “From the First Order? To follow me?”

“Yes.”

“And what if I join the Rebels?”

“That is my wish also.”

He could only stare at her, utterly unsure what to do. Her leveled blade never wavered, daring him to call her a liar again. He had no doubt that if he did, and they really fought, he could defeat her, but couldn’t dredge up any particular interest in killing her. “What if I don’t join the Rebels?” he asked.

The Praetorian shrugged. “You are Rebel now.”

“Maybe not that kind of rebel.”

“You are Rebel’s son.”

“Yes, well, I can’t help that,” he said, looking away from her. The sun was bright and hot, and he was annoyed, and this was too much effort altogether. “Put that away,” he finally told her, turning off his lightsaber and returning it to his belt. The plasma on her bisento winked out too and she stood, letting it fall into a less threatening position at her side. “You stay or go if you want to, but if you ever point that thing in my direction again I’ll kill you. Understand?” She shrugged and he accepted that, turning roughly southward. “Hux dropped us off near my uncle’s old home,” he told the Praetorian. “I’ve been there before. It’s uninhabited, I think we can reach it by nightfall.”

“And then?”

“And then use it,” he said, starting forward. “It’s a moisture farm, at the very least we should be able to get some water.”

“You desire to return to your uncle’s farm?”

“Not at all, but we might die if we don’t. Apparently even Hux has a sense of humor.”

“He does not,” the Praetorian disagreed, falling into step behind him.

“Well, either that or he’s set up an ambush there for me, which seems unlikely.”

“We will not be beaten,” she said confidently. Ren shrugged, not bothering to point out that her bisento might be useful for close combat but probably wouldn’t do them much good against blasters. And if there were more Ysalamiri, and he couldn’t use the Force, they could easily be put in a very tight spot very quickly.

The desert was hot, hot, hot. He’d forgotten how bad it could get, how much he hated it. The sand was hard to walk in, the view maddeningly empty and repetitive. He used the Force to guide them and kept his head down, keeping his wrap close around his face, blocking as much of the heat as he could.

They reached the moisture farm faster than he’d thought they would, a deserted, burned, and crumbling place, drifted with sand and abandonment. He broke the lock on the door and let them into the cool shade of the main pit and the underground chambers that comprised the living quarters, breathing a sigh of relief at the respite from the merciless sun.

“There is water here?” the Praetorian asked, entering after him and looking around.

“Yes. The vaporators collect it from the air,” Ren explained, gesturing back towards the towering vaporator waiting in the center of the pit outside.

“You know how to use such a thing?”

“No,” he said, going out to it.

“Then how will you make it work?” she asked, following.

“By figuring it out,” he said impatiently. “See if you can find any tools, spare parts, anything. We don’t know what we might need.” She gave him a searching look but did as he asked, disappearing into another part of the house. Ben turned back to the vaporator, reaching out with the Force. He could feel the energy in it, unused but still circulating, a steady pulse waiting to be activated again. Even more tantalizingly he could feel the emptiness where the underground water chamber waited, ready to be filled. All he had to do was understand how to make the one thing equal the other.

“Here,” the Praetorian said, returning and handing him something. “I have found an instruction book.”

“A manual,” Ren corrected, opening it. Yes. This was exactly what he needed.

“You can read this?”

“Yes.” Simple Huttese. It had been a while, but as he flipped through the diagrams it came back to him easily. “We need to find a series of three levers with red indicator lights next to the handles.”

“Here,” she reported, circling to the left, looking up. “They are too high.”

“Not for me.” He flipped them easily, his eyes never having to leave the page. Within the machine he felt the energy beginning to branch out, starting up old and unused processes. “Now we need a keypad, three rows of nine buttons.”

“Here.” He circled around to where she was, examining the faded and worn characters for only a moment before typing in the correct sequence. The panel flashed then settled; another few characters and the job was done.

“That’s all,” he said, closing the manual.

“It is ready?”

“It should be.”

“That seemed simple.”

“It’s useful to have instructions outlining the process,” he said, returning to the dining room portion of the house. “You did well, finding this.” She entered behind him without comment, and when he sat at the table she sat at the bench across from him, her eyes watching, her bisento propped up against the wall within easy reach. “What’s your name?” he asked, at a loss for anything else to say.

“I am Chaerea.”

“You should call me Ren,” he said. “It’s not a name anyone will recognize here.”

“Not Ben?”

“No, not Ben,” he confirmed, holding back the urge to snap at her. It had been bad enough to endure Hux saying it.

“I think they will know Ren,” she said, staring him down.

“They won’t.”

“You are very famous.”

“'Kylo Ren’ is recognizable, but not just ‘Ren’.”

Chaerea tilted her head ever so slightly, studying him. “You should use Ben Solo.”

“I’m not going to.”

“People will help, if you do. Especially people here.”

“I don’t need their help.”

“You need help very, very badly,” she disagreed, frowning at him. “You need as much help as possible.”

“I’m not going to use Ben Solo and I’m not going to join the Rebels,” he said firmly. “And I don’t know why you’re here but you can stay or go, whatever suits you. The vaporator should get you plenty of water, and with that weapon of yours it won’t be hard to find passage anywhere you wish. Or you could even live here and take care of the farm, I suppose, no one else is using it.”

“I did not disavow First Order to live on a farm.”

“I did not disavow the First Order at all, but here I am.”

She leaned back against the wall behind her, her transfixing gaze starting to look a little angry. “You are Rebel’s son.”

“I was never part of the Rebellion. If that’s who you’re really after you won’t find them by hanging around me.”

“I am here for Rebel’s son.”

“I don’t care who you’re here for!” Ben growled, standing. Chaerea’s hand twitched toward her bisento but she stayed where she was. “Do what you like. But don’t bother me with your wasted expectations.” He left the room, back toward the main pit. The vaporator’s chamber was beginning to fill but he ignored it, instead seeking out the path to the secondary pit and the garage beyond.

The lights didn’t work when he entered so he left the door open, looking around. He’d been here only briefly when he’d visited before, hunting Luke. No one had really thought he’d be foolhardy enough to try and hide from Ren and the First Order on his home planet but it had been just one more box to tick, one more entry to cross off the list. Snoke had insisted, and had been pleased when Ren returned and reported he had felt nothing during his brief, impersonal brush with his uncle’s past. It had been true then, and Ren sat in an empty chair in this empty room and found it was still true now. This place was the haunt of a child he’d never known, a metaphorical cloaking device for Vader’s misguided son, brought here by the traitorous master who had tried to kill his apprentice. Ren smiled mirthlessly into the shadows. If anything, the only place of any real interest on this meaningless little ball of dust and human debris was the home of Obi-Wan, the man who had continued to torture Vader from afar by keeping his own children from him and had still by all accounts slept well every night. If anything, Ren could only reflect how glad he was he had no children that could be used against him in a similar manner.

“There is water, Rebel’s son,” Chaerea announced from the doorway, bisento firmly in hand, making an odd and threatening shadow across the floor.

“Call me that if you want, I’m not going to change my mind,” he said, standing.

“You are surrounded by your heritage.”

“Yes. Murder and torture and betrayal. That is my heritage.”

“I do not understand.”

“We should have sent you for reconditioning,” he observed dispassionately. “I don’t know how you hid this level of deviance from the First Order.”

“From you,” she pointed out.

“Yes, and from me. Though I never cared what the Praetorians were doing, as long as they stayed out of my way.”

“Yes. It made it easy, to trap you.”

“I’ve realized that. We’ll travel to Mos Eisley tomorrow and go our separate ways there.”

“I follow you.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he said, taking an involuntary step back as Chaerea began to lift her bisento in his direction. “I told you, I’m not going to the Resistance.”

“I follow the Rebel’s son,” she said, lowering the blade.

“That’s not who I am.”

“I follow anyway.”

“Fine. Do what you want,” he sighed, waving for her to move out of his way, too tired to argue the point. There was no need; she’d separate from him of her own accord, once she’d realized he was serious about not seeking out any connection to his mother’s little hive of tattered criminals. Or she really would turn out to be a spy and he’d end up killing her. Either way.

Chaerea regarded him suspiciously for a moment before leaving, Ren following only a step behind. He didn’t bother to look back, closing the door with a gesture in the Force, leaving his uncle’s dusty childhood behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Sorry for how long this got! I honestly could have kept going longer, but I realized it was starting to get a little exhausting, even for my apparently very patient readers. I adjusted the prompt ~slightly~ to allow for my headcanons that Ren would have had to visit Tatooine at least once already while looking for Luke, even if it was only a token visit, and that Ren would already know his family’s history, though he obviously has a very distorted take on it these days.
> 
> It was fun to include Chaerea. What do you think of her? I named her after an actual Praetorian (one of the historical Roman ones, that is, since the Star Wars ones don’t have names) and it was fun to create a new character in the universe, if only briefly :)
> 
> My tumblr, etc.:  
https://how-do-i-turn-this-thing-off.tumblr.com/


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